


We Carry On

by AmanaMistleaf



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Battle, Carrying, Claude von Riegan is a Little Shit, Claudeleth Week (Fire Emblem), F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route, Fluff, Injury, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:41:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23660041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmanaMistleaf/pseuds/AmanaMistleaf
Summary: A joke winds Claude up in his professor's arms, and an injury puts Byleth in his.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 5
Kudos: 155





	We Carry On

**Author's Note:**

> May I offer you some nerdy Claudeleth in these trying times?

“I can’t do this anymore. You’re going to have to find a new House Leader and inform my grandfather of my passing. Tell him my last thoughts were of how horrible my final meal was.”

“Quit the theatrics, Claude, you’re not dying.”

The brunette groaned, covering his eyes with his arm to block out the sunlight that threatened to break through the trees. “It warms by scheming heart to hear my dearest teacher so desperate! She cares so much for my life! Alas, I must leave you.”

Byleth huffed in annoyance, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You stubbed your toe on a loose root while running; I highly doubt that counts as a fatal wound,” she reasoned. “Now, get up. The others are waiting for us.”

Byleth had decided to take the Golden Deer into a nearby forest for some field training. They left bright and early, eating an early breakfast and skipping the morning exercises. The Deer should have known there was a catch to skipping out on those. As soon as they arrived at their target location, Byleth made them run laps.

It was nothing more than a light jog for a few minutes to get their bodies moving, but _of course,_ some of her problem children gave her trouble. She expected the most trouble from Hilda (who she already knew would cheat out and disappear as soon as she could) but no: it had to be Claude.

The future sovereign duke gave no effort to sit up, content to just lie in the grass. “Can’t move. Already dead.” He let his tongue hang out the side of his mouth for added effect.

 _“You are somehow the most brilliant yet idiotic person I’ve ever met…”_ Byleth muttered under her breath. “I’m not joking around anymore. Get up.”

“Nope.” The grass actually was quite comfortable. When all of this was over, maybe he’d find a nice shady spot to take a nap.

“Claude.”

“Dead.”

“Claude von Riegan.”

“That’s me.”

“ _Get up._ ”

Claude stopped reacting after that, shifting his arm to hide his mischievous grin. _She’ll leave me alone eventually. It’s not like she can-_

“Fine, then.” Before he could process what was happening, he was suddenly plucked off the ground like he was a stray pebble. 

Teach was carrying him. _She was actually carrying him!_

Byleth had him in a bridal hold, her left arm supporting the back of his knees while her right cradled his back. His arms flailed a bit before settling around her shoulders, gripping the fabric of her coat like it was his only support. She expected a little resistance while lifting him, a bit of time to adjust to his weight, but he was surprisingly light for a boy his age.

The professor frowned, beginning to walk. “Are you eating enough? You’re as light as a feather!”

“It’s not my fault you’re freakishly strong!” Claude tried to ignore the fact that her breasts were literally inches from his face. He was by no means a large or tall person - in fact, he was only a few inches taller than Byleth - but this _really_ put a lot into perspective for the heir. _Maybe I should be more like Raphael… I’m not that scrawny, right? Teach is just really buff! I don’t weigh nothing! ...Right?!_

“Okay, I get it. You can put me down now!” Claude complained, desperate for this moment to end.

Byleth flashed him her own mischievous smile. “You just told me you are gravely injured! It wouldn’t do for you to walk in such a state!” Her voice was light and playful. “I’ll carry you back to the clearing, then Marianne can take a look at your injury!”

“Teach, please.”

“Please ‘what’ Claude.”

“Please just put me down! I learned my lesson!”

“Nope.”

“Teeeeeach!”

…

**5 years later...**

Byleth hissed as the bandit managed to nick her shoulder, her axe raising to strike once more. The green-haired woman ducked out of the way, feeling the power of her Crest take hold as it heightened her reflexes and sealed her wound. She knocked the woman back with the flat of her swords, leaping back to ready another attack.

The bandit snarled, charging at Byleth with her axe raised. The former mercenary deflected her blows as best she could, trying to be mindful of the muddy earth below her. With one last swing, the bandit struck her legs; Byleth narrowly avoided the attack, clenching her teeth as pain bloomed through her right ankle. She tried to strike back, but the ground was too slippery beneath her, causing her already weakened ankle to twist. 

She collapsed to the ground, already preparing to blast fire magic at her opponent. Before she could strike, however, the bandit choked on her triumphant cry as a silver arrow pierced through her chest.

Byleth searched for the source of that arrow and found Claude circling the skies astride his brilliant white wyvern. He loosened another arrow, hardly needing time to aim as another arrow found its home in the bandit’s body (it was overkill, but when was Claude _never_ extra?).

“Teach!” Claude cried out as the bandit’s body dropped to the floor, making his wyvern dive towards Byleth. He lept off the creature and ran to his former professor, kneeling once he reached her. “You alright? That was quite a spill!”

Byleth nodded, quickly scanning the battlefield to make sure they were in no immediate danger. “I’m fine. I have a few cuts and bruises, but I’m fine.” She made to stand but immediately regretted that decision. The pain that blossomed from her right ankle made her nauseous, tears pricking in her eyes.

Claude settled her down, carefully peeling away her armor to inspect her wound. Byleth didn’t bother looking as the grimace on Claude’s face told her everything. “That’s not good. We need to get you to Marianne.” He clicked his tongue, summoning his wyvern closer. “Do you think you’ll be able to wobble over to Seterah?”

Byleth tried putting weight on her other leg in an effort to stand but eventually collapsed, crying out in pain. _Dammit! This isn’t good!_ She shook her head. “Apparently not. We’ll have to wait until help arrives.”

Claude frowned at that. “What? No!” he exclaimed. “By, if we don’t get this treated soon, we risk it getting infected -- or worse!”

 _Having only one foot would make fighting difficult. We can’t risk that if we want to win this war._ “What do you propose we do?”

Claude sighed, wrapping his arm around her back. “Hold on tight.”

“Wait, what-”

Before she knew it, she was hefted off the ground, in Claude’s arms. He was careful to keep the arm supporting her legs away from her injured ankle. She wove her arms around his neck, a healthy shade of red coloring her cheeks. In the five years she was gone, Claude grew another few inches, standing easily a head taller than Byleth. His chest grew broader, like it was designed to cradle Byleth perfectly. Years and years of drawing a bowstring paid off in the form of strong, toned arms.

He was no longer the boy she needed to carry to training. No, he grew into a man who was able to support and hold the all-powerful Ashen Demon. 

The wyvern obediently lowered herself as Claude approached, making it easier for Claude to swing his leg over the side of the beast and sit down. The arm that held her legs gently laid them down, reaching forward to bunch the reins in a single fist. “Just hold onto me, okay? I’ll make sure she flies slow and low to the ground.”

Byleth was _still_ terrified of flying with him, now even more so that she couldn’t use her legs to steady herself or wrap her arms around Claude’s center. Still, she held on tight and sat half in his lap and half on the saddle. As Seterah took off, the arm that remained around Byleth tightened and Claude leaned forward to keep the green-haired woman secure.

Byleth hid her smile, Claude’s warmth and racing heart doing wonders to distract her from the pain in her leg. She could still easily bench press him with one hand, but being handled with such care like this was nice. 

Maybe when things calmed down, she would ask him to hold her in his arms again.

**Author's Note:**

> So I HC that 1. Claude weighs NOTHING Pre-TS and 2. He grows a little during the TS. He's still a short king, but he gets something. He is a little shit and we love him. 
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed this and thank you so much for reading!


End file.
